


Unbalanced

by Code16



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Microaggressions, Multi, Other, Traidverse, Triad Verse, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Code16/pseuds/Code16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate title, 'blasted Johnlockary'. (To be clear, I'm fully a fan. Jim, on the other hand... And Sebastian, of course, has a most unenviable bodyguard job. If with perks.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbalanced

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw [this](http://triadverse.tumblr.com/post/125567103469/it-would-be-interesting-to-see-a-fic-set-in-the) prompt
>
>> It would be interesting to see a fic set in the triad verse about a couple who didn't want to be a triad, who faced discrimination because of that.
> 
> and my brain promptly took this in, well, rather the bizarrest direction. 

“I’m going to kill them.” It took a certain amount of self control to neither sigh nor roll his eyes, but Sebastian would never have survived this long without that quality in abundance. As such he kept his position at rest at Jim’s shoulder, from where he could easily see both the screen with the hacked security feed, and Jim fuming at it, muttering under his breath about plans for terrible deaths, both accidental-seeming and not. It was generally best not to interrupt him.

Past experience said he’d would calm down after a little. No matter how Sherlock and his friends infuriated Jim from time to time, he invariably found the detective too much fun to murder outright. Though granted, nothing like this had ever happened before. 

To himself Sebastian had to agree that honestly what were the chances. Just that Sherlock and John, with all their… qualities had encountered each other, let along gone beyond that, was an improbable occurrence. Given that, that they would remain the primer couple that they were for the foreseeable time blotted out any other outcome by far.

When John, mourning Sherlock’s apparent death, had ended up in yet another primer couple, that had at least been more or less natural. ( _He’s not the same_ , Jim tended to mutter when watching John.  _He’s like_  them.) At Sherlock’s return, Jim had fully expected John to drop his new ‘distraction’. Sebastian had privately considered jealousy and implosion. In a thousand scenarios, nothing like the wedding invitation that was currently presented onscreen would ever have occurred beyond a joke.

And yet, here they were. 

And here was Jim, looking at the screen as though considering if he could sent explosive backwards through a security feed. (Sebastian wouldn’t have put it past him). 

Really, this never would have become this much of a problem if they weren’t stuck in civilian covers for so long. To Sebastian’s knowledge, no one had made the slightest comment in years on the personal life of the Napoleon of Crime (and those who had before that… had certainly been in no position to do so since). Living as civilians - well, people were not nearly so reticent. And annoyances seemed to crop up at every turn, from renting an apartment ( _I’m sorry, I though I might not have heard correctly. For_  two?  _At your age?_  And that was after the multiple places that were suddenly out of vacancies) to renting a car ( _And will your wife be needing a key?_ ) to any of the paperwork that a cover one wished to keep apparently legal entailed. 

From Sebastian’s perspective these were barely petty details. The affairs and opinions of civilians mattered exactly as much as they needed to be taken into account for keeping and navigating a cover, and that was the end of it. If their neighbors stared at them once they’d seem them together a few times with no third in sight, this mattered no more than any of the bland and the forgettable who had lingered overlong on his scar. 

But Jim, by whatever ever obscure workings of his mind, had, it turned out, a different perspective. Looks made him glare and fume. Comments occasionally brought on graphic revenge fantasies; obstructions more reliably so. Which was all well and good, but when you made the kinds of decisions that necessitated a period of very low profile (like outright challenging Mycroft Holmes, or apparently shooting yourself in the head what-were-you-even-thinking-Jim) it very quickly got entirely inconvenient. Especially for your bodyguard.

The obvious solution, paying or otherwise… persuading someone to pose as their third (or, as Jim would probably have immediately suggested, using such a person to make themselves official and then arranging an accident), he had thus far refrained from outright proposing. Jim had some… issues, with jealousy, and his reactions to oblique hints had quite clearly demonstrated the inadvisability of anything further on the subject. Inventing a fictional (preferably deceased) third, Sebastian judged as still to much of a risk. Working with the documents of death was usually a relatively routine matter, but at the moment and in light of everything, better avoided than sorry. 

So they remained, a somewhat precarious equilibrium. That really hadn’t needed the agitation of Jim’s, ah, playmate suddenly about to enter the ranks of socially blessed officialness. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Jim snapping the laptop shut. With long practice he had no trouble reading the ‘that’s quite enough of that’ and ‘now for a distraction’ that Jim didn’t bother vocalizing.

“Oh, Sebby?” That tone meant either very good things or very bad. That tone and nothing suggestive of the bedroom (when they made it that far) said probably bad. “Remember this one?” when he held up his phone, it showed the inconspicuously obtained picture of the clerk from the shop last week. The one who had called them ‘unbalanced’ and ’selfish’. “I think I have a new idea.” 

(Unbalanced, my ass. If they ever met anyone else Jim might… like, he didn’t think the  _city_  would remain standing.)

(And if Sherlock ever got anything like this (minus the homicidal impulses, presumably) Sebestian heartily wished both John and Mary the joy of him.)


End file.
